In Episode 1, Mot and Seran have an educational session on the history of their people, the Khatir. Lamenting her prescribed destiny as a hapless tutor, Seran tears into the night, forsaking her inherited religion and begging the dark for succor. It answered.
A New Body
Seran sat up in her circular, gaudily decorated bed. It was filled with pillows made of satin-weaved silk and precious downs. Her eyes ached. The room presented itself to her slowly through a diminishing blur. Her gaze was drawn immediately to a pitch-black figure, sitting in the rattan chair from which she had taught Mot yesterday.
Based on its hunched posture and wild jittering, it was a creature, in the silhouette of a man. The creature was terrifying in its ambiguity. Suddenly, its form turned to face Seran. Instead of a face, there was only more tar-dark shadow. The continuous darkness was only broken by two points of dull light where a man’s eyes would be, on an otherwise undefinable face. They flashed red from ember pits, a foreboding, and betrayed no expression. When the creature fully ‘faced’ her, it said in a gritty, androgynous voice,
“Mistress?”
Seran shook the sleep from her head and whipped the blankets off. She stood ready, for what, she did not know. Her heart beat painfully in her chest. The scents of sandalwood and sulphur were invaders to her home.
“Why do you call me that, creature?” She asked it.
Its eyes dulled a bit. It retorted in an uninterested tone, “Why do you call me creature?”
There was a short silence as both pondered the other. The creature broke the silence, “The answer is simple, we have not yet assigned proper names to one another, I think I will call you…Mistress. The lights of its eyes curved upward, a fiction of smiling.
“I would like you to answer my question.” Seran insisted.
She was holding tightly onto a pocket within her robe, to one of her alchemic powders. A concoction which would rend the sight of a man for many days. She wasn’t sure it would work. Its eyes dulled again,
“Simple.” It said, “Mistress is the given term for one such as me to initially address one such as you.” Seran’s gaze sharpened, she was not in the mood to solve riddles.
“Tell me creature, what is the nature of your visit here.” The demonic man, the vision, it must have been real. She abandoned her gods, begged the darkness for the strength to forge her own destiny, and that enigmatic ‘man’, had answered.
The creature stood and faced her. “You begged for succor from the dark. You offered yourself as sacrifice, for a hand. You turned your back on your gods? Yes, looking at you makes me sure of it. My lord has given me to you, I am the hand, reaching out.”
Seran was taken aback by both the bluntness and vagueness of his response. A dichotomy bridging meaning and enigma.
“Now, if you would be so kind, Mistress. Give me a name, my lord will not supply my life force much longer. I’m afraid, I will dissipate without it.”
Seran was not a stranger to the concept of supplying life force to familiars. Seran was likely the most well-read human on the planet. Familars that sustained themselves on life force certainly existed in print, the Village in Moss did this to their children in public ceremonies. She could not imagine how it intended for her to supply that same technique, she could not use magic.
“The puzzled look on your face says enough. Sit, Mistress. I will explain. It must be quick, as I said, I do not have much time.” Seran sat, intrigued. The creature went on, “My lord saw fit to bless you, and so he tore from you mortal eyes. In return, he gave you new eyes, ones which can see the Truth. Truth born of light, shaped in shadow. A gift, from him. I am a piece of him, given life to serve you. I cannot relent my fate or betray you. I am devoid of desire and honor.”
Seran tried to take it all in. She tried to register her reality, while not losing her sanity. She spoke, “I cannot supply you with life force. I cannot use magic.”
At this, its eyes curled, the only way it could smile. “You should not underestimate my lord. This body you reside in…It may resemble your feeble mortal shell’s youthful appearance, but it hides the Truth. Your soul has been torn from that frail thing and my lord has given you a new body, capable of many things. What’s more, he saw fit to destroy the seal on your soul, completely. Magic is yours to command.”
Seran pressed her hands into her abdomen, trying to feel a difference. She muttered, “My seal…has been broken…” She sensed a distortion in her mind. One that dug into her gut. “Your lord must have the strength of a god.”
His eye-smile continued. “It would not be fit to call him a god. I do not think he would take kindly to that.”
Seran was confused, “Then, what would you call him?”
The creature thought for a moment, “I suppose you could say- he is a King, without a kingdom, without foolish men in control of him.”
Seran’s blood grew cold and her heart tightened, as if trying to protect her from the thought. A King, with no guardsmen or sentinels? Could such a thing exist? What terrors such a creature could…
“If you wanted to use his species’ true name, which surely men have forgotten in this era, it is Demon.”
Seran looked back up at the creature. “It seems you have underestimated me. My people are very devout to history. I know the tale of demons. Folklore keeps that witches created mortal men, to serve them, eventually populating all the world. All save the Black Witch, who brought forth demon-kind and perished by its hand.”
The creature approached her, “This- this is not an entirely false tale.” Glowing points of light focused on her. As it approached, she felt a chill. It was emitting cold. “Though, the thought that a witch could perish, the first of all, created by the God of Time and Law…is foolish.” It said.
Seran felt dizzy, sick, faint, “You mean to say, the witches in my vision…They all still live?”
The very idea of it was overwhelming. How did mortal men come to power, if the witches from creation were still alive? Why were they silent?
“Please explain this to me Creature, how are they alive and yet, none are present?” The creature’s eye-lights changed to look bored.
“You weren’t exaggerating, you people are overly concerned with history. Very well, I will recount for you, a bit. First, I insist you give me a name, so that I have access to your life force.”
Seran replied, “So, all I have to do is name you and my life force will be shared with you?”
The creature’s boredom turned to confusion, “You humans…have fallen so out of touch with the Truth, without guidance.” It continued, “A seal is made of three things: 1. A name. 2. An image. 3. Life force, or mana. To control life force, you reach within or outside of yourself for etheric energy, commanding a phantom limb. Your magic will be entropic for some time. It is quick to awaken though, that phantom limb will be yours to command, soon enough.” The creature went on, “Instead of imbuing me with life force, which would be impossible for you at this point and endlessly tedious, you can create a seal. This is another way of controlling magic. It instructs magic, or ambient ether, how to behave, automatically. For as long as it exists. So, when you give me a name and allow me to serve as the image of the seal, all you have to do is allow life force to flow freely. I am sustained on this. A creature you have designated with a name is imbued with consent within your mind, becoming entangled with the outer-mind of the God of Spirit, which encompasses the world.”
Seran did not understand completely, the creature’s explanation was likely lacking due to its dire situation. “Very well, I give you a name. Creature.” When she spoke the words, life force visibly flowed away from Creature, red and orange wisps of mist emptied from him. Then, pulsing golden light flowed from her abdomen, her eyes, her mouth, and fingers. The golden light found its way to Creature and sank into it.
“Creative.” Creature said dully.
Creature sat beside Seran on her bed. “Truth be told, it is not a long story. The witches are alive and present. Well, all save one, whose existence has…changed. It took the witches thousands of years, too many for you to properly fathom, but they eventually realized that it was both unwise and dreadfully boring to allow mortal men to know who they were. Only the Obscure are still aware of their presence, due to their innate connection with magic. For their forbidden knowledge, they- we, are not permitted to breed or-”
Seran interrupted, “Isn’t how he created you a sort of proliferation?”
Creature looked away, feigning interest in her many books splayed across the tent. “When you die, which you mortals always do, I will fade with you, being from your life force. We are virtually one, or at least, less than two.” The morbid thought weighed heavily on him, it was apparent in the shape of his shoulders.
Seran broke the silence, “Where do these- your- people live, then?” Seran asked.
Creature returned his gaze to her, “In the shadows. Few and far between. Based on my inherited memories from my lord, we do sometimes settle into communities. We do not interfere in human affairs, by decree. We also have had time to learn that a life of obscurity is more pleasant. The witches have decreed that any Obscurling who reveals themselves to humanity will be struck down, painfully and slowly. A decree we have seen them carry out. Though, not in the majority of instances.”
Seran realized she was an exception, or a statistic within this, “So, why then, did your lord answer my call? He must have put himself in great danger by doing so.”
Creature replied, “Nothing lasts forever. My lord is scheduled to be executed in two days. He is being culled, the last of his kind. Demons have proven throughout history to be most troublesome to the witches. It has taken them seven hundred years to break the seal he concealed himself within and now, there is no escape-”
Seran interrupted, “Why not just kill him immediately?”
Creature made a quiet laughing sound, “You humans and your urgency. It would be an insult to his dignity to not announce his execution and gather the Obscure for the event.”
Seran was shocked. “So, they are going to make an event of it?”
“Of course.”
“Well, can he not put another seal on himself, to hide?”
“No, the previous seal was a gift, from the Black Witch.”
“Has she betrayed him?” Seran asked, in complete wonderment.
“Betrayal is a human word for human treachery. Though, she has decided to cull her own creation, if that is what you are asking.” Creature said, detached.
“What happened that turned the witches against all demons?”
“We- they- the demons, decided living obscurely was absurd. They decided to again forge thrones for themselves.”
“Why are the witches so vehemently opposed to that?”
“Because it takes thousands of years for humans to forget us, once we reveal ourselves. After being worshiped, then hated, then warred over for hundreds of years without ceasing, the humans either all kill each other or force the witches to end it themselves. After the third and final Great Human Culling, one of the witches was forced to…change. She created a council, deciding it was their right to rule over all things. She decided which of us would become obscure and what was forbidden.”
“So, is there another world where you all live?”
“No, we live obscurely; Where we choose, however long we choose to. The witches pay no mind, unless there is a significant noticing. It most often takes less than wiping out a village when indiscretions do occur. We can interact with humans, build families, become powerful nobles or live quiet lives as beggars. Obscurlings must simply leave no evidence of an overarching, organized spiritual reality. Immortals must move regularly to prevent this as well.”
“At which point they just abandon their families?”
“That or be killed, painfully and slowly, without a chance of redemption, yes.”
“So the demons, seven hundred years ago: was it an uprising, or a declaration of sovereignty?”
“It could be called either, I suppose. It was a slaughter. Demons killed humans in droves. Mortals summoned forth the first King to defend themselves. The witches slaughtered the demons and demanded the King be destroyed, as he was born of the most powerful mages from every major population, 45 summoners in total. His power was too close to infinite. The mortal men refused, inspiring the wrath of the witches. What the witches created in response to this tore the mighty King asunder. The power they created to do this is what changed one of them, permanently. My lord is being shown respect, only because the scars of that time have had time to dull and scab. It is the same reason for which the witches allow men to have one King per kingdom, through the power of no more than nine men. The other demons were not shown similar treatment.”
“So, it is the witches, not magic itself, that destroys all of the ritual casters when ten summoners or more gather?”
“Yes.”
“Let us return to your lord. He blessed me with this body, and you, as a way to live on?”
“Nothing so poetic. It is more of a final insult.”
“So then, he has no purpose for me?”
“None. He only hopes you turn the human kingdoms upside down and desecrate that which they love.”
Seran’s features focused. “That, my new friend, I will gladly do.” Creature’s eyes turned up into a smile again, this one bigger. “Excellent, then my lord has chosen well.”
Demons and witches/my favs/excellent start
Oooh! The lore deepens. Love this demon uprising!